


you were mine for a night

by hemmingscliffords



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Porn With Plot, Riding, Top!Michael, bottom!Luke, calum and ashton arent actually in this they're just mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 13:16:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4264602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hemmingscliffords/pseuds/hemmingscliffords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His chest feels tight, like someone’s grabbing his heart and squeezing it as tight as they can, and Luke wants to scream. He wants to let out all his frustration, he wants to punch Michael and throw a tantrum like a little kid because none of this is fucking fair. Michael was Luke’s everything, his first kiss, his first time, his first love. It was like all of it was being thrown away, and Michael found it so easy, that’s what Luke hated the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you were mine for a night

**Author's Note:**

> guess who's back, back again.  
> yooo so i'm finally on my summer holidays from college and look what i've conjured up in the past few weeks since being off hiatus!!  
> i'm actually super, super proud of this fic and i really hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it, it's taken me a few weeks to get it to this standard, but i can honestly say it's definitely the best work i've written, in my own eyes.   
> it's loosely based on wrapped around your finger, due to me getting in this funk where it was literally the only song i listened to for three weeks solid.  
> it's also super different from any other fic i've written, i got my angst on for it and it's full of feelings and all that gross shit that nobody really likes but weyhey, there is actually porn in it too, because i know you all love that!  
> and because i'm off hiatus now you can for sure head over to my tumblr @ ncwamericanas to send me a prompt or a request because those are super cool and fun to write.  
> enjoy, guys!

Luke’s awoken by a loud tapping sound. It’s a consistent _tap, tap, tap_ coming from his right hand side, rhythmic and unfaltering. 

He sits still for a moment, listens intently because honestly what _is_ that? His blurry eyes squint to check the time on his alarm clock. _00:02_. 

He’s almost positive he’s still tipsy from the nights ‘festivities’, if he could even call them that. His head is spinning still, mouth tasting like the cheap whisky Calum had bought, and skin sticky from the amount of beer that had been spilled on him by various other lads that were so drunk they could barely hold themselves up.

Luke would’ve called it an amazing night, if it wasn’t for the reason why it happened.

The blonde furrows his brows, sitting up as slow as possible and swinging his legs over the edge of his bed as the palms of his hands come up to rub at his eyes, heavy-lidded and dark circled from the amount of sleep deprivation he’s put himself through over the past few weeks.

He wanders over towards his window, bleary eyed and struggling to walk in a straight line as he tries in vain to wake himself up a little bit. He pulls one of the shutters open gingerly, peeping only part of his face out of it and right enough, there’s a six foot tall, black haired boy with furrowed eyebrows and a leather jacket on his shoulders standing beneath his window, throwing tiny rocks at it. 

Luke rolls his eyes, sliding the shutters open properly and unlatching the window, pushing it wide open. A rush of cold air hits his bare arms, and he suppresses a shiver, “Michael, what are you doing here?” his voice is barely above a whisper as he leans his arms on the windowsill, peeking his head out. Michael looks tired, he notices, like he hasn’t slept in days. 

Luke can’t help but think he still looks breathtaking, even at his worst.

Michael lets out a quiet cackle, and it sounds forced and not right falling from his lips, but Luke doesn’t have time to overanalyze because he’s talking, “Come down? I just wanted to talk.” 

Luke doesn’t even have to think about it, he’s pulling the window shut again, throwing on a pair of jeans and sliding out of his bedroom door quietly. The boy is heavy footed, but he’s been skilled in the art of sneaking out late at night for years. Late nights when Michael would come pick him up in his truck. Calum would always be there too, sticking his head out the back window and whooping as loud as he could without getting them all caught. Sometimes they’d head to parties with Ashton, the boy was older so he knew all the seniors and the dropouts from schools in the district, that would throw huge get togethers on any night of the week just for the hell of it. Other nights, they’d get out on the highway and just drive. Drive on and drive on, until Luke would complain that he had school in just a few hours, and the boys would drop him off, tutting at him, calling him a goody-two-shoes. 

Luke still laughs now, about how he’d snark back and bite at them, calling them good for nothing dropouts. Telling them that he had to finish school before focusing on the band, however, was a not so fond memory.

Staggering into the dining room, he opens the patio doors and Michael is standing there to greet him. Luke practically falls into his arms, clinging onto him for dear life, hands clutching his jacket, as he buries his nose in Michael’s shirt, inhaling the smell that can only be described as Michael. Home.

Michael’s got one arm wrapped around Luke’s waist tightly and a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in as tight as he can. Luke feels his eyes go watery and suddenly this wave of realisation washes over him, that this time in a few hours Michael will be gone. “I couldn’t leave without coming to see you again.” Michael whispers, “I needed to say goodbye proper. It wasn’t the same saying bye at the party.”

Luke chokes out a harsh sob and the tears begin to fall then, slow and hot as they roll down his cheeks. This is it, he thinks, Michael will be gone tomorrow and they’re never going to see each other again. He’s moving to the other side of the world and leaving Luke here. He wants to hate Michael for it but he could never hate him, no matter how much he might try.

Michael’s arms unwrap from Luke, and then he’s bringing them up to cup his face, to get Luke to just look at him for a moment, “You’re even beautiful when you’re crying.” He says after a second, and Luke barks out this sharp, wet laugh at that, blue irises sparkling again as a few more tears fall.

“You’re still drunk, probably. Shut up.” Luke gasps, this hiccup sound leaves his parted lips and he cringes, trying to calm down.

They look at each other for a moment, then the ebony haired boy leans down to capture Luke’s lips with his own and suddenly Luke is clinging even tighter onto his jacket then, frightened to let go of him, because once he does he knows that’s it.

They kiss softly, just a light press of lips, and they stand like that for what feels like hours but for what was probably only minutes. Luke’s eyes are still wet and probably bloodshot from the amount of tears that have leaked out of them, but he’s finally calming down a little.

“I love you so, so much,” is the first thing Luke says once their lips part, “I don’t want you to forget about me. To forget about what we have - had, even.”

Michael’s face falls even further, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips, “I could never forget you, Luke. Not in a million years. You have no idea just how in love with you I am, I’ll always love you.” 

Luke sucks in a sharp breath at that, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows that once Michael actually moves everything will change. He’ll get settled in and make friends and probably find a boyfriend - or girlfriend. He’ll live a brand new life and forget about Luke, whilst he’s stuck in Sydney still pondering what could’ve been.

“Tell Calum he’s a fucking asshole for taking you away from me. Now I’m stuck here with Ashton and the reminder that the band failed and we failed to make shit work between us all.” Luke’s voice is so quiet that the words don’t come out angry like they should’ve.

Michael’s heart sinks right down to his stomach to lie heavy, “Our hearts weren’t in the band. We thought we were serious but we weren’t. Cal’s serious about going to london and starting fresh. I wish you could’ve come with us.” there’s a pause and then, “But we have right now, and I want you to come with me somewhere.”

Luke doesn’t ask where they’re going as Michael pulls him towards his truck, because he knows exactly where they’re going.

They’re going to the beach where they had their first ‘date’. 

When Michael was fifteen, he’d came out as gay. Everyone was so supportive of him, the world didn’t stop turning, people didn’t stop loving him, and if anything Luke fell just that little bit more in love with him. Michael was unbelievably overwhelmed, relief washing over him as he realised everything was going to be okay, and Luke had taken him to the beach, so that he could just have the time to be alone with his thoughts, or even just so he could watch the ocean and calm down a little.

They had sat in complete silence for at least an hour, huddled up together on the sand as they’d watched the waves crash over the pier. Luke had felt Michael’s eyes on him, he’d felt the mesmerising jade irises on him for so long, and he remembers digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands as he waited patiently for Michael to make his move. He did eventually, he leaned forward and his lips landed sloppily on the corner of Luke’s mouth. It was inexperienced and awful when they kissed properly right after, but Michael had declared his love for Luke and whispered to him about how much he had always had feelings for him, how happy he was that Luke felt the same, and suddenly how bad the kiss was didn’t even matter.

The car ride is silent, and it’s not comfortable silence, it’s awkward silence. It hasn’t been like this between them for years, and it’s like they’ve gone back in time and they’re fourteen again and being forced to hang out for the first time. Luke hates it. Luke wants to go home.

The air is crisp and the wind is howling, and so when they get out of the car, when Michael pulls his denim jacket from the trunk, putting it over Luke’s broad shoulders, Luke wants to cry all over again as he slips his arms into it. 

Michael sets a blanket out on the sand, and Luke sits on it with knees to his chest, bare toes sinking into the taupe coloured beads. He looks out with blank, cloudy eyes, watching the moon hit the clear water beautifully as the waves crash. He feels empty, almost.

His chest feels tight, like someone’s grabbing his heart and squeezing it as tight as they can, and Luke wants to scream. He wants to let out all his frustration, he wants to punch Michael and throw a tantrum like a little kid because none of this is fucking fair. Michael was Luke’s everything, his first kiss, his first time, his first love. It was like all of it was being thrown away, and Michael found it so easy, that’s what Luke hated the most.

Michael’s plunking himself down as close to Luke as he can possibly get on the blanket, then wrapping an arm around the blonde’s waist to pull him against his side, and it doesn’t help the weird mixture of feelings Luke has at the very moment. In a few hours, Michael won’t be here anymore. He won’t be here for Luke to touch and look at and talk to. 

“Are you coming home to visit?” Luke blurts out after a few moments, voice sounding dead, as he struggles to ask the question because he already knows the answer, he just doesn’t want to hear it.

Michael shrugs against him, “Maybe. If everything goes good, I don’t know if I’ll ever be home again.” And there it is, Luke’s throat tightens and he bites on the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from letting out a scream. From letting out this gut wrenching sob that he can feel tearing it’s way up through his throat.

“Oh,” is all he can let out, “we’re probably never going to see each other again, are we?” 

And then Michael’s turning to look at him, his arm falling from Luke’s waist, and he has the nerve to actually look hurt by that, _upset_ , “Luke, please don’t do this.”

Luke sucks in a shaky breath, “No, I’m doing this, Mikey. Because I know I’m right. You’re gonna leave on that plane tomorrow morning and you’re not gonna come back. I’ll maybe get a phone call or a skype call every few nights for a month or two, and then it’ll be a facebook message every few weeks because you’re ‘busy’, and then no doubt you and Cal will get signed. Then that’s it. I’ll never hear from you again. Fuck that, Michael. If you’re never coming home again then I don’t want anything to do with you after tonight. It’ll hurt me more if we continue whatever the hell this is.” And hot, angry tears begin to stream down his face again and dammit, he can’t keep it together. He’s crumbling more and more by the second and before he knows it, more hurt, wet words are spilling from his mouth, “It’s fucking horrible, because I’m not part of your grand life plan. My life is getting torn from me, the love of my life and my best friend are both leaving and I’m stuck here in fucking law school with Ashton who’s pining for Calum before he’s even gone, and my mum who continues to tell me I’m gonna be fine when I know we’re not going to be fine! You’re giving up on me, I can already feel you drifting away.”

Michael’s jaw clenches visibly, “You’re out of your damn mind if you think I’d give up on us, Luke.” And his thumb comes up to wipe at Luke’s wet cheek, but Luke is quick to take his wrist and push it away. He sees the hurt flash through Michael’s green irises and he can’t help the pang of guilt that he feels in his chest.

“I saw how easy it was for you to give up on our stupid band, you’re going to give up on me just as easy.” Luke spits, but his words sound wet and weak through the tears, “Stop filling me full of empty promises.”

“I don’t want to say goodbye to you, Luke.” Michael murmurs after a few beats of silence, “I don’t know how to say goodbye to you. Us.”

Luke finally looks at Michael then, and the ebony haired boy is looking right back at him. They just stare at each other, at this point Luke doesn’t know what to say to break the silence. He doesn’t even know if he wants to break it.

Michael closes the bit of space between them then and presses his lips against Luke’s own. There’s nothing gentle about it when Luke pushes Michael down and throws his leg over so he’s sitting on the older boy’s hips. 

Luke’s angry, he’s hurt. He shouldn’t be doing this, because he’s just making things harder for himself now. It’ll be harder to let Michael go after this, and he knows that. But Michael was Luke’s drug, and Luke needed his final fix before going cold turkey.

“Please just make me forget you’re leaving me.” Luke begs as he presses his lips to Michael’s stubbly jaw, whining low in his throat as the boy’s fingers wrap in the fronts of his jacket to pull him down against Michael’s cold body.

Michael leans up then, kisses down the wide expanse of Luke’s throat, mostly just a drag of lips, but Luke can feel the boy’s teeth nip every now and then. He hopes Michael leaves marks. He wants to look at them every day until they fade to nothing, he wants the reminder that Michael was there.

The blonde’s eyes slip shut as Michael’s hands run up under his shirt, cold fingers leaving goosebumps all over Luke’s body. Michael’s lips are back on his then, and Luke slings his arms loosely around Michael’s neck, kissing him with an undeniable passion. It’s messy, teeth clanking together every so often, tongues sliding against one another in an uncoordinated fashion, yet it’s perfect. 

Luke’s subconsciously rutting his hips against Michael’s, and though it’s freezing cold outside, Luke is so hot, skin tingly with how warm he is. Lips leave his and soon make their way to his collarbone, and with the way Michael’s teeth are scraping against his skin, Luke is positive the boy is going to leave large, beautiful bruises in his wake.

Michael’s groaning low in his throat, hands sliding down to rest on Luke’s ass, to push the boy’s hips down rougher on his own now, and it has a whine ripping from Luke’s throat.

“Mikey, _please_ ,” Luke pleads, hands sliding into Michael’s hair to roughly fist at the dark strands, the way he knows drives the boy wild, as his hips continue to fuck down, and he’s so turned on and so hot that he’s sweating, whole body alight, “fuck me, _god_. Fuck me.” 

The older boy doesn’t reply, just roughly shoves his fingertips down into the back of Luke’s jeans, pulling them down his ass and thighs along with his underwear, the tight material digging into Luke’s skin in the most delicious way. He still manages to flush a deep shade of red when his cock slaps up to hit his shirt, hissing as the cool air hits the head.

Michael’s in a daze, mouth hanging open as he stares at Luke like he hung the fucking moon or something. He’s pliant under Luke, as the blonde runs his hands over his shoulders, sliding the leather jacket off Michael’s broad shoulders. When the jacket hits the sand and Michael’s arms are bare, it knocks him out of his hazy state.

“You’re so beautiful,” Michael whispers, lifting a hand up to run his fingers over Luke’s lips, tugging his bottom lip down, “my beautiful boy.” He breathes out, pulling Luke’s mouth open with a firm thumb on his chin, and then he’s placing three of his fingers into the wet heat, “Suck, baby.”

Luke doesn’t have to be told twice, lips closing around the fingers in his mouth, tongue running over them until they’re slick, as Michael wraps a firm hand around his cock. Luke fucks up into his fist slowly, moaning quietly around Michael’s fingers. 

Michael slowly lets his fingers slip from Luke’s kiss bitten, abused lips, and a trail of spit is left in their wake, the wet streaks attached to his chin in thin lines. The older boy’s middle finger runs between Luke’s ass cheeks, left hand slipping from Luke’s cock, and then he’s whispering again, “Nod when you’re ready.”

Luke nods furiously, hands gripping onto Michael’s biceps tightly as his finger pushes past the ring of muscle and enters him, all the way up to the knuckle. Luke lets out a breath he doesn’t realise he’s been holding, and after a few seconds Michael begins to slide the finger in and out at a torturous, slow pace.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Luke whimpers, fingernails biting into Michael’s arms now as he rides the boy’s finger, and soon enough he’s pulling out and pushing back in with two, and Luke’s whole body shudders, mouth opening to let out a choked off whine.

Michael’s breathing hard, pushing his fingers into Luke as deep as they’ll go, deliberately missing his prostate just to make the blonde whine and pout. Luke buries his face in the crook of Michael’s neck as he bounces up and down on thick fingers, and Michael slowly pushes in a third finger, so tight that Michael’s fingers are now a constant pressure on Luke’s prostate. It sets Luke off, his eyes are wet now as he continues to shove himself onto them, tears streaking his cheeks and mouth opening on a loud moan because this is just _too much_. He’s gonna scream or come, or maybe both.

“Baby, are you ready?” Michael asks, sensing that he’s close, and all Luke can do is nod, bite into the skin on Michael’s neck as his long, calloused fingers reach for the zipper of the older boy’s jeans.

Michael lifts his hips up to help Luke tug his jeans down, slips his fingers from the younger boy’s hole and he’s hissing at the empty feeling. He watches in awe as Luke spits into his palm, wrapping his hand around Michael’s dick to slick it up, pumping up and down, brows furrowed in concentration. 

Luke works his way down onto Michael’s cock in one go, face screwing up as he takes him. He’s shaking, and Michael notices this, takes Luke’s hands in his own, laces their fingers. Luke looks down on him, blinking slowly, and then he’s lifting himself up slowly, then sinking all the way back down again, clenching around Michael’s cock, revelling in the way the boy hisses underneath him.

“M’gonna miss this,” Michael pants, rocking his hips up to meet Luke halfway, and the angle hits Luke’s prostate dead on, and a guttural moan exits the blonde’s mouth, his fingers squeezing Michael’s hands tightly.

“Me too,” Luke gasps, breathing shaky. Michael can tell he’s struggling, and he’s unlacing their fingers to grab at Luke’s hips and flip them over, so that Luke lands softly on his back. He pulls Luke’s jeans clean off now, and then he’s spreading Luke’s legs, entering the boy again and fucking into him harder.

“Don’t stop, _please_ ,” Luke’s a whining, panting mess underneath Michael, he’s being fucked so hard that his back is moving further and further up the blanket, and all Michael does is drive into him harder, grab the back of Luke’s leg and push it up towards his chest, and then it’s just right again.

Luke cries out, fingernails biting so hard into Michael’s back that he’s sure the boy is going to be bleeding, red raw and sore for days, “Right there, God, right there,” he’s all but screaming as Michael continues to thrust into him, hitting his prostate so hard that Luke’s body shakes. Luke feels the hot tears running down his cheeks again, and then he feels Michael’s fingers brush them away and he’s gone.

“I’m gonna -” Luke gasps, fingernails biting into Michael’s back impossibly harder, and then he’s tensing, stomach muscles jerking as he comes in hot, thick ropes, body spasming as he spills in between himself and Michael, and he goes lax almost immediately once he’s done.

Michael’s overwhelmed by everything, and he only has to thrust into Luke a handful of times, short and deep, before he’s shoving in hard, coming with a cry of Luke’s name as he buries his face into the boy’s neck, riding out his orgasm.

They stay like that for a few minutes, and then Michael slides out of Luke slowly, collapsing next to him. Luke’s hazy eyes flicker to Michael’s face, and the ebony haired boy is leaning forward to capture Luke’s lips once again. This time it’s soft, gentle.

“I love you, okay? I love you so, so damn much.” Michael talks so quiet, like it’s a secret that nobody else but Luke gets to know. 

Luke sucks in a shuddery breath, “I love you too. I’ll always love you.” 

Then his eyes are slipping shut, and he’s aware of Michael whispering sweet nothings in his ear, and then nothing.

Luke wakes up on his sofa the next morning. Michael isn’t next to him, just a folded note in his wake;

_I’ll be home for Christmas. Mikey, x._


End file.
